Immortality
by dulce.de.leche.go
Summary: ONE-SHOT - Immortality, what is it good for? - Almost a crackfic? What is Mother's day like when you're evil and immortal? - A sort of fluffy, dark-ish Volmione short.


**A/N:** Almost a crackfic? Not sure. Not beta'd. This is quirky and dark and just kind of happened. Try not to take it too seriously now...

* * *

 _ **IMMORTALITY**_

Immortality.

It had its ups.

It had its downs.

There were many things about immortality that made one thankful for it and loathe it at the same time. The vast majority of these things never came to light until after the long and never ending path had already begun to be tread upon. The unfortunate reality of that was also that one had, literally, forever to think _all_ about it.

Hermione huffed into her fluffy down pillow and rolled more fully onto her stomach, then huffed again.

At least one of the perks of being immortal - and of course the important detail of also ruling the world - was that you could sleep in when you bloody well wanted to.

"Hermione, it is half two. I know you dislike Sundays, but it is a bit much, don't you think?"

Unless you had evil immortal husbands who didn't let you. Emphasis on the _evil_.

She huffed once more and tugged the sheets up over her head. Her sulking beneath them lasted only a few seconds longer before her husband hissed a spell that had the bedding flung clear across the room along with all the other pillows on their mattress leaving her naked and struggling with one she refused to let go of. The pillow she clung to with her less than intimidating immortal drool on it was wriggling and fluffing and expelling all sorts of ridiculous feathers as it tried to squirrel away but she got her hands on her wand and snarled a grouchy _finite_ at it; it flopped unceremoniously back to the bed and she curled around it once more.

Hermione heard an exasperated sigh at the foot of the bed and the drapes were flung open suddenly, light flooding into the room and blinding her. The beginnings of a growl rumbled in her chest but died off abruptly in favor of a strained groan at the new and pleasant sensation of warm hands smoothing their way up the backs of her bare legs. She felt the tickle of her husband's nails as they raked up the sensitive skin of her thighs along with a firm, even pressure from the pads of his fingers massaging the muscles there.

Did she mention the evil part?

A soft purr of contentment snuck its way past her lips when those hands of his kneaded out a knot or five in her legs just below the swell of her bum and then moved methodically upwards, working out every tight bundle of aching muscle he found on the way to her shoulders. When the length of his body was stretched over her and his odd nearly lipless mouth was peppering kisses on the side of her neck, she grunted. "Hate you…"

"Noted. It is still half two. And it is still time to get up."

She grunted again, though it somehow sounded like a whimper when he resumed rubbing out the muscles in her arms. "I'm up Tom," she mumbled-slash-drooled into her pillow, "I was just resting my eyes."

Voldemort snorted at that and bit her neck hard enough in an irksome pinch that her dark eyes snapped open and tried to fix him with a glare. "UP," he said sternly, the threat in the single word clear as crystal.

It drew her attention and that glare darkened into something much more mischievous. "Or what?"

He smirked despite himself, the low tone in her question made all the more sultry by her ragged sleep laden voice. "Or I won't touch you for a week." And he removed himself from her body, leaving a startlingly cold draft in his wake.

Hermione huffed again, mood properly soured. Her pout was blatant and exaggerated and just oh so very petulant. She fluffed her pillow once… twice… three times before rolling back over and sprawling in all her pouting, naked, immortal glory.

 _HUFF._

Her eyes tracked him as he moved around their suite, padding in his immaculate dark robes to their wardrobe and rifling through her things with a flick of his wand until he found a sheer violet number that he favored her in and draped it over his forearm.

Voldemort looked at her expectantly when she still didn't move, pointedly ignoring the way she was spread so delightfully at that moment. One did not become an evil immortal overlord without issuing some form of restraint now and again.

 _Restraints._

He put it on a mental to-do list and cleared his throat when she started to trail one of her hands down her belly while the other fiddled with a clearly erect nipple. "Hermione, she has been waiting for you all day."

At that, Hermione's hands stilled and her brows furrowed a second before shooting up. She scrambled into an upright position and searched out the calendar she'd installed into the suite some time ago when it was clear that living forever was going to make keeping track of time and dates a very difficult endeavor and promptly shrieked when she saw what day it was.

"TOM! Why didn't you wake me?" Hermione hissed at him and summoned the robe from his arm, hastily slipping it on as he looked at his wife with agitation clear in his expression.

"It must have slipped my mind."

The witch tore across the suite to have a quick glance at her reflection and freshen up as swiftly as she could before bursting from their room at a frantic pace. Her bare feet smacked on the hardwood, dignity forgotten, and she practically sprinted through the halls to reach her favorite tea room. Hermione flung open the doors and a series of loud pops sounded, followed by a shower of confetti and streamers in an array of color. She gasped when she saw the decorations, hands covering her mouth and a glistening moisture gathered in the corners of her eyes.

In response to her presence – _finally_ – a large hooded viper shifted and slithered into view from where she'd been resting along the branches of one of the not-so-small 'small' trees Hermione insisted on moving into the room. Her tongue darted out several times before her head rose eagerly and her eyes locked onto the curly haired witch.

"' _World's Best Mum'_ ," she read the large letter banner strung up awkwardly between the not small tree and the room's impressive bay window. "Ohh… oh Nagini my little love, thank you!" Hermione crossed to the snake's perch and leaned in, bumping foreheads with her affectionately. She trailed the backs of her knuckles along the smooth scales of her neck and cooed sweetly. "Mummy's so sorry for being late…thank you for waiting for me. This is wonderful."

"It is only half of your gift."

Hermione's head snapped to the doorway, not bothering to extract herself from Nagini's coils as the snake moved along her body and towards the table in the room. She felt a tug at her ankle before Nagini's tail left her completely and she looked questioningly at the barren wood.

As if in answer to her question, Voldemort smirked and moved into the room, hand hovering over the center of the table. In one swift movement, his long fingered hand reached down to wad itself in a too familiar invisibility cloak and jerk it free from its spot. He watched her face with morbid fascination.

Surprise.

Shock.

Confusion.

Understanding.

 _ **Complete and utter vindictive anticipation.**_

Hermione turned her dark eyes up to her husband, wand already in hand, a smile so sly and full of vengeance that it would clear anyone's suspicions that the woman didn't belong at his side.

"I thought you still needed her," she said even as she closed the gap, gaze locked hungrily onto her gift.

Voldemort shrugged. "She finished her task early so I thought you might enjoy—"

"Thank you." Hermione licked her lips, climbing onto the tea room table with the lithe grace of a wildcat.

"It was your daughter's suggestion."

It was at that Hermione glanced up to catch Nagini watching her, almost nervously. Her hardened expression softened for just a moment and she smiled. "Thank you. It's _perfect_." The snake's coils relaxed and she slithered nearer to her mum once more, moving over the witch's limbs as Hermione crawled over her prey.

Voldemort walked around the table and seated himself at the far end of it, watching his wife with adoration in his gaze. He rested his chin in a palm and summoned a cursed blade from a cabinet on the wall, slid it her way and smiled when Hermione's hand clamped down over its hilt as soon as it came within reach. "She's just stunned. She can hear and see everything."

"Good," Hermione purred. "Release her when I say. I want to chat and _play_ like we did so many years ago when it was 'just us girls'. We'll make a day of it." She reached out to trail her left hand up the stunned witch's body, fingertips dancing up between her corseted and clothed breasts, drawing circles over her collarbone before wrapping her hand around the woman's neck. With a bruising grip, Hermione tilted the other witch's head towards her left arm, using the tip of the dagger in her right to peel back her sleeve and showcase the jagged slur carved and cursed into her flesh.

"I've been wanting to chat with you for _so_ long, Bella. It just seems that since we are practically like family now, we should match. I thought, perhaps, that I would give you a memento very much like the one you gave me. Something more poignant maybe-" She shrugged. "—we'll figure it out as we go."

Hermione crawled further up the woman's body, arranging herself so that her knees and one arm were pressed heavily into her sternum, thighs, and wrist. Nagini slid amongst them both and pressed her coils hard into the other of the dark witch's free limbs, draping herself across Bellatrix's neck and hovering with interest near Hermione's cheek to watch.

"Duck your head, love, you're in Mummy's light." Hermione grinned brilliantly up at her husband, a wicked gleam flashing in her chocolate eyes. "Tom—"

" _ **FINITE."**_

Immortality.

It had its ups.

It had its downs.

At least it made waiting for that perfect moment of revenge all the easier.


End file.
